Moon Phases
by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns
Summary: A collection of fics featuring various Luna Lovegood pairings.


Note: Pairing: Luna/T'Challa, Ancient Egypt!AU

Any grammatical mistakes are my own, written around 2am XD

* * *

**_A Curious King_**

The celebration of T'Challa's birthday was full of life. Citizens from inside and outside the palace walls filled the space within the temple. The room was bright, freshly carved and painted for the occasion. Food such as ducks and beef was bountiful and spread across tables on nearly every side of the space. Servants were carrying trays of cheese, butter, and other meats with fresh, herbal scents cooked within them. Music was playing vibrantly around the room, causing his people to come together and dance with one another.

T'Challa stood within a safe distance from the welcomed chaos. He donned the finest fur around his shoulders to match his dark wrap-around skirt. He'd placed his large headdress somewhere, but it was his day so it could be done without question.

His sister shifted at his side, and he could tell she was resisting the urge to fold her arms or walk away. Her hair was tucked inside her extravagant, blue beaded headdress, and she wore a simple white, wrapped gown etched in multicolored beading.

"This is your day, brother," Shuri said. "You should be out there celebrating among our people."

"As should you," T'Challa countered. "They're our people, so I shouldn't celebrate with them alone."

Whatever she was trying to slip away for was going to be disappointed because T'Challa wouldn't allow her to escape. Shuri knew this and huffed.

"I'll join them if you will," she declared, her tone leaving no room to discuss it.

T'Challa gave her a blank expression. He was the older brother here, yet he was not treated as such. He was more lenient because of the fact that their parents had passed into the Afterlife and they only had each other.

"Fine," he said, beginning to stride into the crowd with Shuri reluctantly following behind.

The Pharaoh looked around leisurely, debating on which celebratory factor would be the best to incorporate himself in. When he couldn't make up his mind, T'Challa was going to resign and allow Shuri to leave; however, when a swirl of blonde hair came into his sights, he turned to see who it was.

T'Challa didn't recognize her, and he possessed a sharp memory. She was dancing—or what T'Challa assumed was dancing. Instead of a wrap-around dress, the woman wore a linen, golden top that rose slightly above her stomach. Her skirt resembled gold pieces woven together to fit her frame; it swayed with every move she made.

Her appearance felt child-like; on the other hand, she carried her actions with much confidence of a mature woman. T'Challa was frozen in place, captivated and amused by the blonde. It took for his sister to snap him out of it.

"Did you just freeze?" she hissed in T'Challa's ear.

He bristled and shook his head immediately. "Of course not."

Shuri responded with a knowing look, spying the woman in T'Challa's direct line of sight."It's like Ra has forsaken her skin," Shuri whispered, eyeing the lighter woman up and down skeptically.

T'Challa placed a hand on Shuri's shoulder. "Be nice, _sente_," he scolded, his eye trained on the beauty. Her skin may not match the same shade as his, but the gold painted on it shimmered against the flames. "I'll be back."

He could hear Shuri scoffing and making some remark, but he was more focused on the blonde prancing around in circles.

She must have sensed him approaching because she stopped with one of her arms raised slightly. Her silver eyes met his, and she gave him a pleasant smile as she bowed her head.

"My lord," she said, her voice airy and melodic.

"Please, simply T'Challa is fine," he replied while clasping his hands behind his back. "I make it a point to become familiar with the people of my city, and I've yet to do so with you."

"That's because I've only arrived in your city but two nights ago," she explained. "I _hupta _with my father and aid in his quest to record every kind of creature across the sands and waters."

T'Challa was intrigued by her statement. He had never heard of such a story coming from a woman's mouth. Not even Shuri, who proudly expressed herself as boldly as the queens _and _kings who ruled along the Nile, could conjure the thought. He wondered what she and her father had learned and acquired of the unknown thus far, and once he prepared to make his thoughts audible, she gave him a knowing smile.

"Would you like to know the progress of my _hupta_, T'Challa?"

He laughed in awe. "Did the gods bless you with magic, _munefer_?"

It was hard to tell when a woman in his city was truly affected by his words because of their flawless melanin, but this golden goddess' cheeks were flushed red like the Red Sea.

"They did not, my lord," she replied. "I saw it in the way you tilted your head and examined me after I told you."

T'Challa liked to believe that she was a descendant of Isis; he was completely under her spell. "Come with me to the Throne Room, _munefer_. I would like to hear about your journeys across the sands and waters."

He unclasped his hands behind his back and held one out for her to take. She didn't respond immediately, only brushing her hair over her shoulder. Before he could withdraw his hand—and feel insulted—she grasped it and bowed her head.

"As you wish," she said. "I'll follow your lead, T'Challa."

* * *

T'Challa's slouched on the throne, his elbow perched on the side as his thumb rubbed along his forefinger and middle finger; his attention was solely on the blonde woman a short distance away.

She not only told him of her discoveries with her father but also animated them. She used her arms, opening and waving them around to imitate creatures beyond their imaginations—the descriptions were too vivid not to believe. She used her legs, flowing and dancing to create a rhythm in her stories. Her gold garments and glittered body created an image of the finest sand left in her wake.

He watched every facial expression, every change in her voice. It was like watching a song without the elaborate effort. She held an air of mystery, a puzzle he could not solve. T'Challa didn't want to solve it, though; it intrigued him more to keep her that way.

Her song ended quicker than he'd like, and he felt a pang of disappointment. He would like nothing more than to keep her here by his side, but her _hupta _was her calling. She would follow it like a whisper in the wind. T'Challa would not take that from her.

The Pharaoh clapped, slowly shifting so he was sitting up straight. "That was excellent," he praised.

She bowed, her skirts swishing at her sides. "Thank you, T'Challa. It has been a pleasure recounting these discoveries. They'll shape our world as it grows older with the shadows."

T'Challa pressed his finger under his chin. "And it's safe to assume you'll continue these discoveries soon," he stated.

"Yes, my lord," she replied. "My father and I shall depart from your city in two days."

He nodded somberly, softly humming in thought. He looked in her eyes. "Will you ever return?"

She gave him a soft smile, boldly approaching him at the throne. She took step after step, stopping and kneeling at the side of the throne. T'Challa seized the opportunity and touched her hand; her skin was cool yet soft to touch. There were many unacceptable actions that had and were occurring, but T'Challa didn't find it within himself to care.

"You ask and I shall," she told him, examining him thoughtfully. "Sekhmet's blood courses through you. You're a mighty warrior, T'Challa. I can see it in your eyes."

T'Challa's lips parted slightly, his breathing even yet soft. "Your praise is unnecessary, _munefer_."

"It is not simply praise, T'Challa but the truth," she said. "It means I can trust you to wait for my return."

He could have questioned whether she was trustworthy, but there was a strong feeling inside him that assured him that he could. Traditions were being broken because of his strong curiosity for this woman; perhaps a little bit of change would be just what his city needed.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt her move away from the throne. She continued walking in the direction of the room's doors, and T'Challa only sat and stares. Once she reached the doors, the blonde looked over her shoulder at the king. Dark chocolate met pale silver.

"While I find comfort in your interest of the unknown, it's only fair that your patience is accompanied with a name," she said. "I'm Luna."

'_Luna_,' he thought. Her name comes from the moon, and it's only fitting that the god who controlled the moon was a traveler. T'Challa would remember her name and wait for her.

Luna's light giggle interrupted his thoughts. "If we don't meet again before I depart, may the gods continue to bless you, T'Challa." She smiled as she pushed open the door. "And happy birthday."

She drifted away so swiftly, it was almost like she wasn't there. T'Challa remained on the throne, rubbing his chin with a small grin. His bracelets dangled against one another as he contemplated his duties for the next two days. Surely he could find the time to arrange one meeting with the peculiar blonde.

* * *

A/N: other words used were based on Medu Neter Hieroglyphics translator

_sente_ = sister

_hupta_ = travel

_munefer_ = beautiful

Word Count: 1,579


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